


go ahead and cry little boy (nobody does it like you do)

by xfrosted



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Good Brother Klaus Hargreeves, Good Sister Vanya Hargreeves, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Multi, No Incest, Number Five | The Boy Has Issues, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Number Five | The Boy Whump, Number Five | The Boy-centric, Platonic Cuddling, Sharing a Bed, Touch-Starved, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-10-30 06:11:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20809847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xfrosted/pseuds/xfrosted
Summary: Five is struggling and needs help, who’s better than Klaus and Vanya for the job?





	1. i'll use you as a warning sign

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five has nightmare and Vanya helps him through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song for both chapters is 'I Found' by Amber Run

  
It is a known thing in the Hargreeves household that all of the siblings have issues.

Whether that’s when on some days Luther feels so ashamed of his body he can’t leave his room, or, whenever the Hargreeves visit the pool, Diego panics at the mere thought of submerging himself underwater.

Point is, they all have issues. Some are just worse than others.

Klaus can’t even have a conversation about getting an edge off or feeling numb without wanting a fix so badly it’s borderline unbearable. 

Vanya cannot stand complete and utter silence in any room without thinking back to the cell her own _father_ shut her up in.

And Five, well Five can’t watch _any_ survival or apocalyptic movie without the threat of nightmares plaguing his dreams later that night. He can’t be alone - _one up Vanya_ \- without his very old and exhausted mind trying to throw him back _there_, in the Apocalypse.

So yeah, they’re all messed up to an extent.

It was visible at times when Five’s hands shook so much with the effort to not reach out and touch his siblings. To _feel_ his siblings.

He knows he can. He does. He just can’t. He can’t bear the thought of his siblings becoming intangible. Can’t bear to think that this might be some insane hallucination he conjured up from the sheer want of human interaction.

So here Five is, peeking through the crack in Vanya’s door at midnight because he had a _nightmare_ and some stupid part of his mind wants human touch; comfort.

Childish, really.

But no matter how much he denies, denies, denies the fact that _he’s okay and he’s always been fine on his own_, a small, almost invisible part of Five wants a hand to latch onto. He wants someone to hold him and whisper stupid reassurances in his ear, promising that_ it’ll be okay, it’ll all be okay._

But he doesn’t voice this. Won’t ever voice this until he dies and they bury his body in a coffin. Deep, deep underground is where all his pretty little secrets will lay.

Five shifts his weight from foot to foot. Cringing when the old floorboards creek under his feet.

He holds his breath in anticipation, waiting to see if Vanya heard him. Through the crack of the door, he can see her scrolling on her phone mindlessly. So no, she didn’t hear him. _Good_. He’d like to keep it that way.

Except he doesn’t want it that way. He wants to feel his siblings. He wants to see and hear and touch what he worked so hard to get back to. But he can’t and he won’t and he doesn’t. That fact of truth is what leaves a gaping hole in his chest. It scrapes him out and leaves him hollow; devoid of want and need.   
  
Of course until the cycle repeats itself. Five goes to sleep, inevitably wakes up from a nightmare, has some sort of breakdown, and gets up to make himself a cup of coffee until the rest of the house is aware the day has started as well.

Five reaches his left hand up to knock on her door when he freezes.

Is he really going to his sister for comfort? Despite his name, he is not five years old. Sure, he has the body of a thirteen year old, but he makes it very, very clear that he is no ordinary teenager on a daily basis.

Would this just erase all of that work? Surely, because seeking help is only something kids do. Five _isn’t_ a kid, no matter how much he looks like one.

But when will he ever get the help he so desperately wants? When will appearances stop mattering and people will just treat him like he is. A grown man who survived an apocalypse and, therefore, may need help? He doesn’t think that time will ever come.

He feels tears prickle his eyes. Darn it, why is he so _weak_? Five takes a deep breath, holds it, and then releases it.

He must be more exhausted than he realizes because breathing doesn’t seem to calm his sudden burst of emotion.

More tears form in Five’s eyes. He tries to blink them away but that just sends them cascading down his cheeks. He takes another breath.

_In and out._

The effort was futile. More tears trail down his cheeks and his breathing begins to quicken.

Before he knows it, a sob is not-so slowly climbing it’s way up Five’s throat and he knows he has to leave but he can’t _breathe_-

“Five?” Vanya’s soft voice rings out, and through the haze of overwhelming sadness and panic, Five knows he’s been caught.

He hastily wiped his tears when he heard Vanya get up off her bed and walk to the door.

”Hey, it’s okay. I don’t really know w-why I’m here actually. Sorry, I’m just going to go,” Five babbled. Trying his best to reassure his sister the moment she fully opened her door to him.

He attempted to backtrack when his right hand was caught in Vanya’s warm, _alive_ hand.

Five’s breath all but flew out of him. He stood still, shocked at the contact.

Vanya noticed his sudden tenseness and quickly released his hand from her grip and Five had hide his hands behind his back so she wouldn’t notice them shaking.

”What’s wrong?” Vanya questioned, warily.

”N-Nothing I’m fine. I’m just gonna’ go,” Five mumbled, and then made to leave.

”Five, wait,” Vanya called after him.

He paused, his back turned to her as she placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

There it was again, that _warmth_ of a living, human hand. This was the last thing he needed, though. It made his childish want of comfort even stronger as it came back at full force like a punch to the stomach.

Tears flooded his eyes again at an alarmingly fast rate. Before Five could even think of blinking them away, they overflowed. Spilling onto his cheeks like water on porcelain.

He sniffed pathetically, his back still turned to Vanya. He felt her tense in surprise at him showing vulnerability before retracting her hand.

Five whimpered at the loss of contact and carefully turned his head to face Vanya.

She had a concerned look on her face, of course. But not the one Allison would get on her face when Five would mention his time in the Apocalypse or the day after a particularly horrific nightmare.

So yes, it wasn’t a _Mom Look_. But it was more of a _Concerned Sister_ look, without pity.

And man, if Five didn’t just hate pity. Every pitying glance, or tone, or sigh. He hated it. But it wasn’t on Vanya’s face. Just plain concern and love for her brother. Five hadn’t been on the end of _that_ look in forever.

Now, Five would like to believe he has pretty great control of his emotions. He always has really. Even when he was a kid, because showing pain and sadness to your enemies was a weakness that could get you killed.

_What idiocy._

But now, Five was exhausted, and frankly, he was tired of hiding all the damn time. Of hiding his pain. His sadness. His wants.

Before he could stop it, a sob burst out of his throat and he wrapped his arms around himself in mockery of comfort.

Vanya’s shock only lasted for a second before she stepped forwards and wrapped Five in a hug. He melted against her, his legs buckling as he buried his face in her shoulder.

”Oh Five, it’s okay. You’re okay,” Vanya counseled.

”I-I can’t keep doing this any-anymore,” Five choked out.

Vanya led him in her room and sat him on her bed. Just as she was getting up, a small hand clasped her wrist tightly.

”P-Please don’t leave. I-I’m sorry, I’ll calm down, I promise. Just don’t leave me,” Five begged desperately.

It felt as though an invisible hand reached into Vanya’s chest and squeezed her heart. She scooted closer to him and hugged him tightly.

”I am _not_ leaving you, Five. I promise. I’m just going to close the door.”

She felt him nod against her and she got up to shut the door, though Five’s whimper when she left his side did not go unnoticed.

Vanya returned to her bed and wrapped her arms around Five’s small waist, pulling him closer. Five slumped into her hold and sobbed loudly.

”I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I left and made your life hard. I’m sorry-“

”Shh, you have nothing to be sorry for okay, Five? Could you tell me what’s wrong?” Vanya prodded gently.

Five hiccuped against her chest, “I’m so tired of t-this.”

”Of what, Five?”

”Acting like I d-don’t care. I’m so tired of a-acting-“ He cut himself off with a sob that shook his whole body.

”It’s okay, just let it out,” Vanya reassured.

And so, Vanya sat there as Five sobbed into her shoulder. Waves of misery threatening to drag him under, only to be held up by Vanya’s tight hold and her whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

It took a lot longer for Five’s tears to taper off than he would’ve liked but finally the body-wracking sobs subsided to soft hiccups and small sniffles and he was having trouble keeping his eyes open.

”Hey, Five?” Vanya called.

”Mhm?” He mumbled. Vanya smiled softly, he was barely awake.

She brought her hand up to his hair and began to card through the dark brown locks, scratching his scalp softly.

”Let’s get to bed, okay?”

She felt Five nod sleepily against her chest and she gently moved so they were both lying down on her bed.

Five still kept his hold on her now tear-stained shirt. She pulled him close to her _warm, alive_ body and he sighed softly.

Vanya was still taking a hand through his hair as she said, “Goodnight, Five. I love you.”

”Goodnigh’ Vanya,” Five slurred, voice heavy with sleep.

She felt his body relax as he slowly succumbed to sleep. Vanya sighed. It will take awhile, but they’ll all get better.


	2. if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five drinks too much and has a moment with Klaus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I don't really know where I'm going with this lol, but I promised a second chapter with Klaus and I will deliver<3 also not beta read so pls help me point out any mistakes. also i hope this isnt too ooc...
> 
> -
> 
> warning: brief mention of a suicide attempt.

If anyone even comes close to understanding Five, it's Klaus. Klaus knows what every look and crack in Five's facade mean. _Way_ too well for Five's standards. He wants to keep to himself and have privacy. God knew Five needed his privacy. It was always just something he desired. All his siblings knew it. Well, sometimes there was the occasional slip up and Five would have to refresh their memory, but other than that _almost_ every academy member respected that one minuscule wish.

Except then, Five would go and screw it up and get drunk. Then, he would share _every single detail_ his sober self wouldn't want anybody to know. Even then though, he'd have some form of a misshaped and wonky boundary. Yes, he'd spill his guts to whoever was there to listen, but there were just some secrets that _no one_ had to know. Including himself.

Like the time he - a few years into the Apocalypse - had managed to convince himself that there was no escaping that hellscape. That he would die alone with no one to grieve him. He had tried to kill himself by overdosing on some basic expired pain meds he had found while scavenging a pharmacy. Only to wake up hours - _or days_ \- later with the worst migraine of his life and a bad case of the stomach flu. While Five's pride had been severely damaged at the fact the _he couldn't even kill himself correctly_, he had gotten up and tried a whole new variety of algebraic equations because he's nothing if not stubborn. 

Don't even get him started on the _Commission_, though. His family only knows the half of it - maybe not even. His family had gotten the sugarcoated, warm, sunny - easy version of his time there. They couldn't handle the _real_ version of it, not at all. Not even Five could fully process his time there without feeling the full force punch of self hatred. He hated himself, he really did and he was fine with it. Five had hated himself long before the Commission came into play. He could never tell his family about the time when he was assigned to kill a three year old toddler named Charlotte Brown because she _apparently_ had influenced her mother to storm Versailles in 1789 and kill the head crossdresser too soon. Nor did Five want to tell his family all about the time when he had to poison Ivan IV's wine before a game of chess with Belsky to put an end his monarchy in 1584. According to google, it was a stroke. At least autopsies in the 15th century didn't include technology. And don't even get him started on how many assignments he had when the Industrial Revolution finally rolled around in the mid 1800's.

Point is, Five has _secrets_. He is a reserved person with reserved stories only Delores knows about. He has never had time to sort out his _feelings_ or _emotions_. Funny how that works, too. He can manipulate time on his own accord, but for the life of him, can never seem to have enough of it.

Five doesn't like people in his bubble - his personal space; an area taped off with yellow police tape saying "_do not cross_" and "_turn back_". But even he knew one day, someone would stumble through that yellow police tape without a care in the world, and use the information stored in the files of his mind to hurt him.

Today was just his _lucky_ day.

* * *

Five brought the bottle up to his lips again only to swallow the sweet burn of Reginald's custom liquor. _What a bastard._

He was on his second bottle. Almost halfway through it. The events of today had been interesting to say the least. Him and his siblings had all gotten back from a late lunch at Tito's. Once in the mansion, they had all gone to the living area and chatted for awhile. It had been the first time Five really felt like they were acting like a family. It was nice, until it wasn't. The conversation took a sharp turn when Klaus brought up the fact that _dear old dad_ had locked him in a mausoleum at age nine. Considering the previous conversation had been about Allison's court cases with her daughter, Five thought the statement was random and out of place, in true Klaus-like fashion, really. 

The once enjoyable and almost calming talk, had then been turned into some venting session about the horrors of Dad's "training". Five could relate, boy could he relate. He remembers spending hours down in one of the many training rooms Hargreeves had installed in the house. Chain jumping until he collapsed from exhaustion and retched on the oakwood floors. On certain days, mostly if it was a punishment, Five would spend the next few hours, sometimes even days, locked up in a supply closet in a straightjacket; unable to escape until his father had had enough of his "_foolishness_", as he so bluntly put it.

Five had been snapped out of his thoughts when someone had cleared their throat beside him, Diego. He looked around, all of them looked at him expectantly. They wanted him to _talk_ about his torture time. No thanks. Five had tried a more softer approach than his normally prickly side would allow. He had almost deflected the conversation away from him when Klaus's eyes snapped just left on Five's head. He nodded with what he thought was subtlety, but Five had been watching him and he saw it as clear as day, and pressed "_Why he wouldn't tell his own dear family had type of hell Dad had put him through_."

"It doesn't matter what he did to me. It's over now," He had stated firmly.

But Klaus was Klaus, the man didn't give up that easily. He had asked again, this time including Ben. Saying he was "concerned" for him, or whatever lie Klaus had spouted.

Normally, the Ben card would've gotten to him. It always did, same with his siblings. But then, it had only fueled his mounting fury towards his family for pressing him. One thing led to another, and Five was loudly and explicitly telling them to "_leave him alone_." Brilliant, really.

They had all started leaving after that, going in different places of the house to cool off. Five had went to the bar and grabbed a few bottles of his Dad's liquor.

All leading up to where he was now, drunk and miserable. He was hoping for the type of drunk that would make him numb and hopefully tired so he could get some rest, but he knew better than to hope. Five was drunk, but not screwed over like he had been in the library all those months ago. His thirteen year old body rejecting the alcohol; a shame really, because he now he was only somewhat tipsy. Coherent enough that his thoughts could still attack his mind.

Just as the alcohol had _finally_ started taking effect and Five could hear his thoughts quieting and feel his eyelids drooping, Klaus padded into the bar, plopping down on the stool next to him and sighing audibly. Five groaned as his attempts at sleep were interrupted. He slowly picked his head up from where it laid on the cool countertop and blinked blearily at his eccentric brother.

"Hey, so, I'm sorry about earlier today. I shouldn't have pushed you into telling us something you didn't want tell," The man explained.

Five raised an eyebrow, "I'm assuming Ben fed you those words and made you rehearse them?"

Klaus blinked dumbly at him before he face contorted into a hurt look, "Ben doesn't whisper everything in my ear, y'know"

Five snorted, "Yeah, you go ahead and tell yourself that. Truth is, you have no idea how to deal with a living person, much less a dead one."

Klaus's hurtful expression turned into one of anger, "You don't have to be a jerk about it, Five."

"Isn't that what this family is made up of? We're all just assholes that hurt one another," Five knows he should stop; he's drunk and angry so he's lashing out on the person that is - at the moment - ticking him off the most. But he can't, the anger he still feels from his brother from earlier simmers in his gut and is turning his vision red.

"At least most of us were still _here_ for each other," Klaus mutters under his breath, but there was no mistaking the malice laced in his tone.

Now, Five likes to believe he has a strong hold on his emotions; he knows he does. But after almost two bottles of liquor with a side of useless rage and bone deep exhaustion, that was the _wrong_ thing to say and Five can feel all of his carefully constructed barriers come crumbling down.

"_What_," he growls, throwing all the fury he can into his words, "What did you say?" 

Five guesses that he must look downright murderous because Klaus's eyes go wide and he gulps, leaning back a little further from him.

"What did you just say?" He spits out again because Klaus looks to shell shocked to seem like he had really heard him.

"I-I'm sorry, Five. I didn't mean it like that. I-"

"No, but you did; you did mean it," he replies, his muscles tensing with barely contained rage.

"I shouldn't have said that. I'm so sorry Five-" 

"I don't want to hear your apologies. Do you even know what I had to do to get back? How many people I had to kill? How many times I thought _killing myself_ would be the only way to leave that hell I was stuck in? Of course you don't. You don't know anything about _me_ or _my life_. I'd like to keep it that way," He snapped as he stood up from the barstool and started to leave the bar.

"Hey, now, Five, wait a minute-"

"No, do _not_ talk to me. Leave me alone," Five glared venomously at Klaus, warning him; cautioning him to _turn back now_.

Either Klaus did not get the memo, or he was just _really_ set on having his brother hear him out because despite Five's warning, Klaus took a step closer to him. Reaching out with a slightly shaking hand to put on his shoulder. Before it could make contact though, Five slapped his hand down hard and hooked his right foot around Klaus's ankle and pulling, sending him into a tumbling mess of long limbs before Five fisted his hands in Klaus's t-shirt and yanked him close, hissing in his face, "Y-You have no idea what I've done!" He shouts, letting his emotions take control over reason, ignoring his resistance, "What I've been through!"

Klaus's eyes are blown wide in shock, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tries to find the words to say to make this situation any better.

In the absence of a response from his eccentric brother, Five snarls and pulls him closer to his face, not caring if his brother sees every bit of his face covered in anger. He needs to see it, Five thinks.

"You have no _right_-" He spits out the word _'right'_ like acid, "- to blame me for leaving when I didn't even know I wouldn't have been able to get back."

Klaus is still silent. Still as tense as a statue in Five's hands.

"Y-You have n-no right," He croaks again. Suddenly, all the rage he had been feeling at Klaus, at _himself_, has all dissolved into a melancholy sadness that sits like heavy rocks in the bottom of his stomach. Now, he's back to feeling miserable, just like he had felt before his brother had arrived. Now, he wants to tell Klaus that he's sorry and that he knows his brother didn't mean it; that it was just in the heat of the moment.

But his eyes burn and his throat is uncomfortably tight. He doesn't realize he's crying until a sob bursts out of his chest and tears track down his flushed cheeks. He notices how Klaus expression softens into something akin to concern, but doesn't notice that Klaus has gotten out of Five's white-knucked grip. He doesn't do anything about it though; too shocked at the fact that _he's crying in front of his brother_ to really process what is happening.

Klaus coos sadly at Five and attempts to brush away the tears that are flowing down his face in rapid succession, yet only to have his hand weakly brushed away. 

"I-I'm f-fine," Five gasps out in-between shuddering breaths. His brother gives him a deadpan look at his obvious lie and glances over to the right of Five for a moment before nodding and walking towards his smaller, crying brother.

Five doesn't realize what's happening as Klaus pulls him to his chest and cradles him like he's something fragile. Five tries, he really does, to fight off his emotions before they utterly win and leave him leaning heavily into his brothers hold. A sob wracks through his young body and his legs give out, causing him and Klaus to sink to the floor not-so-graciously. He feels feather light touches to his hair and then feels long, thin fingers rake through said hair. Five can't help but think that this is probably the most childish thing he has ever done; crying in his brother's arms like a _baby_. His cheeks burn an even brighter red at the thought and he closes his eyes in shame.

* * *

It all happened so fast, Klaus didn't even really register what he even said to Five before it was too late. One moment, he's talking to his _slightly_ pissed smaller brother, and then next he's holding said brother; who's body is shaking with every cry he lets out. Klaus is in a daze as he brings his hand to Five's hair and starts to card his fingers through the brown curls. Five chokes on a sob and squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his face more into Klaus's chest.

"Hey, hey it's okay. It's all okay, Fivey," He's barely aware of the words spilling out of his mouth, much less the old nickname. Five doesn't respond; just shaking like a leaf in Klaus's arms. He doesn't know what to do. Ben was always the best at comfort, and he always gave the best hugs. Klaus just feels wrong. He feels like of _all_ people, he does not deserve to see this show of vulnerability in Five. He doesn't even know if he's hugging him correctly, to be honest. But he is trying, and right now that's the best he can do.

Meanwhile, Ben looms in the corner across from Klaus and Five, a sorrowful look on his face. Ben always had much more in common with Five than anyone else in the academy, Klaus realizes. He remembers when they were kids and they had all just gotten back from a particularly rough mission. Ben was silent, covered in blood as Five - who was also covered in multiple bruises and cuts - led him upstairs to help him wash off. Klaus remembers walking past the bathroom near Ben's room and hearing hushed whispers of reassurances from Five and small sniffles from Ben. They had been there for each other then, and it must be hell for Ben not to comfort his long lost brother now. 

Ben notices Klaus' stare and nods silently in approval for his efforts. Speaking of silence, Klaus notices the brother in his arms had gone almost entirely still - if it weren't for his chest moving up and down with every breath he took. He peers down only to come face to face with a sleeping Five. He had cried himself to sleep with tear tracks left to dry on his pink cheeks. If it had been in a different situation, Klaus would have totally cooed to Ben over how young and _adorable_ their little brother looked while sleeping. 

Confused on what to do next, he looks at his ghostly brother, giving him a pleading look. 

"Make me corporeal," Ben demands and Klaus nods, knowing what his brother wanted to do. He maneuvered both of his hands out from under Five's body and clenched his fist, his hands turning a faint blue. Ben walked over to Klaus, squatting down and holding his arms out. His brother easily hands the sleeping teen over to Ben, who prepares for the added weight. He lets out a breath, standing up easily. "You've got to be kidding me," He mutters. 

"Hm?" Klaus hums in question.

"He's so light. Is he eating?" Ben motions to said brother, who - somehow - had managed to curl up into a ball in his brother's hold with his face buried into his shoulder. Soft, small puffs of air hitting his neck. 

At his brother's worried expression Klaus assures him, "Hey, don't worry okay? We'll check up on him, make sure he's eating and stuff."

Ben nods stiffly and starts to head upstairs, slowing down a bit whenever Five shifted in his hold.

When they get to Five's room, Ben sets him down very gently on the bed as to not awake him. Five immediately melts into the soft mattress and curls up on his side, murmuring softly in his sleep. Ben turns and looks at his only other _awake_ brother, a thankful expression crossing his face before giving his consent for Klaus to make him incorporeal once again. Klaus' hands fade of the pale blue and he shakes his arms out, plopping down in Five's spinning desk chair. 

Not even five minutes later of peaceful silence, Klaus sees Five's eyebrows furrow and his hands twitch. He sits up slowly, calculated. His brother lets out a small whimper and his head lolls to the side, giving Klaus an even better view as to what's happening. He scoots the spinning chair up to Five's bed side just as he lets out a soft cry. Klaus knows what to do without the help of Ben this time. His right hand drifts up to his sleeping brothers face and he runs the tips of his fingers over the furrow in his brow. His other hand is stroking Five's hair as Klaus whispers words of comfort into his brother's ear.

"Shh, it's alright, Five. You'll be okay," He consoles softly, not really wanting to wake his brother up. Soon, Five's eyebrows smooth back out and his hands unclench the sheets, his body being dragged back down into a deep sleep. Klaus sighs softly before kicking off his own shoes and wiggling up next to Five's relaxed form. Five unconsciously moves closer to his brothers warmth and hums in contemptment. Klaus smiles softly and simply enjoys the way when Five breathes out, his breath comes in small puffs that hit Klaus's neck and enjoys how Ben is looking at them both with a fond expression. For once he feels like he did something right, and in the very moment before his eyes slide shut, he decides he want to keep it that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i worked on this for three days and then i got lazy and gave out at the end,, imsorry. also these three are my babies and deserve to be happy :) 
> 
> \- 
> 
> please comment and leave kudos<3

**Author's Note:**

> the ending is shit but I stayed up til twelve am so,,  
@ umbrella academy writers: give this babey boy some love plwease <3
> 
> title song is daddy issues by the neighborhood btw
> 
> -
> 
> please leave kudos and a comment!


End file.
